


Light and life in an unusual place

by Rolislake



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gisla - Freeform, Kattegat AU, Love, Rollo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rolislake/pseuds/Rolislake
Summary: "A ringing voice, a woman yelling in a foreign language.He turned towards the voice, as if it was calling his name, as if it was something for him, and then he saw her." A Rollo & Gisla fanfiction.





	1. I. Chapter.

                                                                                    I. Chapter

The battle was chaotic.  
He was a great warrior, he fought in a great amount of battles, but never one like this.  
This was different.  
It was as if the gods themselves enchanted the battlefield with their magic, and they were just unconscious puppets, moving under their spells with fearless rage.  
Rollo could not see Ragnar anywhere, but he did not care what happened to his brother, in that moment all he cared about was himself and his warriors.  
Bodies were falling from the wall like raindrops during stormy days, and the sky was grey as if the waters of knowledge could fall from it at any moment.  
In that battlefield death and life were not distinguishable, as if they were a unique entity, as if there was no difference between the dead and the living.  
Some of Floki' structures were on fire, and he looked around worried, inspecting the structures around his.  
And then everything disappeared.  
A ringing voice, a woman yelling in a foreign language.  
He turned towards the voice, as if it was calling his name, as if it was something for him, and then he saw her.  
Standing on that wall was one of the most beautiful visions he ever had, something like a Valkyrie, but real.  
She was standing there, she was encouraging her soldiers, she had her hair braided and was unarmed, as if nothing could touch her and she was protected by her own beauty and her own courage. She was light, and yet there was only darkness. He could not hear anything else but her voice, he could not see anything else but her.  
Damn the battle. Damn Ragnar and the machines. He needed to reach her.  
Rollo looked at the ladder in front of him, his only hope to be close to her, and started to climb it.  
When he came to the top he had to fight with soldiers; soldiers that he fought like a bear fighting for his prey.  
He looked at her again, she was scared and surprised, and when he killed all the soldiers he made his way towards her.  
She did not withdraw. She stood still, staring at him as if he could not harm her.  
They looked at each other as if they were not in a battlefield, risking their lives each second. They could not move.  
Her chestnut hair, her skin, everything about her was new to him. And another voice came to his ears, Ragnar was yelling "Rollo, turn!". He noticed that the Frankians were throwing giant rocks off the wall. He had to fall into the cold water in order to protect himself, yet he felt that he could not go alone.  
He had to take her with him, so he took her in his arms and jumped in the air, only to receive the cold welcoming of the water a few seconds later.  
Underwater he could not hear the sounds of battle, nor he could hear Ragnar's voice, he could only see.  
Rocks were falling into the water, surrounding him and the young woman. He held her close, starting to swim away from the battle in order to save themselves, or to just save her. Suddenly he felt alive, in a way he had never felt in his life. He was fighting not only for his life, but also for hers. She was a stranger, yet she was now someone to him, and he was fighting for her. He reached one of the boats, the farthest from the battle, and he climbed. He was relieved to see that she was alright, wet and scared but alright.  
She said something, but he could not understand what she was saying, so he decided to listen carefully to all the words she was muttering, and ask Sinric the meaning later.  
He breathed, looking at the silver sky, remembering the words of the Seer.  
"The bear will marry a princess".

Author's space:  
Hi, this is my first english fanfiction and my first longfic ever,  
so I'm quiet excited to publish this first chapter.  
I want to thank you for reading my fanfiction  
and I want to thank seersaw for the edit,  
hope you've enjoyed.  
With love,  
Viv.

  



	2. II. Chapter.

             
             
             
             
             
             
            
             
      II. Chapter.

Ragnar smacked him, “What happened to you? Are you crazy?! Yes, you are!”, he yelled. His eyes were now of a sharp freezing shade of blue, and Rollo knew what that meant. “The only good thing you've done is kidnapping this woman, but you risked your life. What were you thinking of?” Ragnar screamed again, and Rollo replied, “I don't really know, brother”. But he knew. Ragnar called Sinric, that came rapidly.   
“Sinric, can you tell me who is this woman, please? And brother, pray to the gods that she's someone of importance in this city, for your life and for hers” Rollo looked at him with rage, his protective instinct was ready to react at that provocation when Sinric's voice replied, “She's the princess of Frankia, the Emperor's daughter, Gisla”.   
Ragnar looked at him with a puzzled expression, “How did you know?” “I didn't”.

  


***

  


  


Rollo could see from the boat the high mountains of Kattegat, finally at home.  
The princess, after hours of fighting and crying, was asleep, exhausted.   
Looking at her was now easier, and he noticed once again how beautiful she was, innocent and half covered by his fur.   
He wished he could give her a better cover, but Ragnar was in the boat and he couldn't treat her any better, not when he was looking.   
He had to pretend that she was just a slave, at least in front of the others. But she wasn't just a slave.   
He was bewitched by her. He was bewitched by her beauty, her voice and her eyes.   
His heart broke in pieces when Ragnar pulled her hair, forcing her little body against the boat's deck, like a flower bent by a rock. And he couldn't help.   
He was planning to take her as a slave, but that would have been impossible if Ragnar, Floki or Lagertha were suspicious.  
Gisla moaned in her sleep, and he smiled looking at her. She was relaxed, some tears were still on her cheeks, but at least she was sleeping, safe in her own world.  
He brushed her cheek, wiping a tear and hoping to give her, in her sleep, some comfort. He knew Ragnar wanted to take her as his slave, but he could not allow it.  
He could not leave her with his brother, he couldn't leave her at all.

***

  


When the boat touched the shore Rollo woke her up, and he noticed her reluctance and her wide eyes. She was scared of him.   
She started to yell, although he couldn't understand a word of what she was saying he knew that she was insulting him and to make it worse she was also crying.   
Rollo was sad to see her in that state. His heart broke once again, realizing that he was the cause of all that sorrow.   
He had thrown her in that boat, he had kept her from her world. In Frankia she had everything, she had her home, but now she wasn't there. It was all his fault.   
He took her away from her home just because he... Rollo shook his thoughts way and decided that, whatever was to happen, he would protect her.   
He looked at her, and suddenly she stopped yelling, looking fearfully at something behind him.   
Rollo turned and saw that Ragnar was close, so he helped her to get out of the boat with the most delicacy his position permitted.  
Lagertha was already on the shore, and he could not allow to let her suspect anything, he knew that the smallest mistake would reach Ragnar's ear rapidly.   
Gisla's feet were now touching the sand, and he let her have his fur, she was shivering, clearly not used to Kattegat's cold.   
Lagertha came closer and said “The Frankish princess stole your fur” he replied with a small, “yes, but I have many, I really don't care”.   
She stared him for a moment, analyzing what she just saw and then went to Ragnar's side.   
Rollo couldn't be more relieved, and he turned around searching for Gisla, and then he found her.   
She was with other slaves in the charge of Aslaug, tears were streaming down her face and he knew he could not waste a moment so he went to Ragnar and asked him   
“Can I ask you a favor?” Ragnar turned and nodded “Of course, brother” “I want to take the Frankish princess as my slave”.   
Ragnar looked at him surprised and replied smirking “That sobbing little thing?”; he was clearly joking, but Rollo wasn't, so he answered, this time with a serious tone   
“I'm the king, she should be my slave”. “But I was the one who took her! I have a claim on her just like you had with Athelstan” Rollo insisted, and he saw his brother's eyes wide open, filled with pain.   
Obviously, he didn't expect the mention of his dear friend, Athelstan's death was still a sharp wound for him, and his eyes shut for a moment, while he whispered “I guess you're right, I give my permission”.  
Rollo couldn't believe it. For the first time, he won.  
He reached Gisla, taking her under his arm, and said to Aslaug “This slave comes with me”, then he turned and went throughout the crowd to the woods, hiding from everyone's eyes and keeping her close to him. Now nothing could come between them. He felt all the worries slip away with a deep breath, a joy so simple yet so rare.   
She was now with him.

Author's notes:  
Here we have the new chapter!  


I hope you'll like it, and I can't wait to write  
the next one. Thank you again Seersaw for your help. ^^  
With,  
Viv.  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  



	3. III. Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we will finally Gisla's pov.

Gisla woke up. 
She was tired, her head hurt but she was not uncomfortable. 
For a split moment she thought that she was in her bedchamber, in Paris. 
Everything in that bedroom reminded her home; the softness of the blankets, the soft warmth of the room and the sound of the fire. She opened her eyes, but she wasn't in her room. 
Now she remembered. The battle, that Northman, the boat. 
How long had she slept? And where she was? The last thing she remembered was looking at the nightsky, in the middle of the woods, praying to the gracious Lord to save her. 
Suddenly someone entered the room, and she saw him. Instinctively she drew back her feet, trembling. 
He was tall, strong and everything about him was the definition of savage, he was exactly like a bear. 
That bear pointed to himself and said slowly “Rollo”, then he pointed her and said in the same way “Gisla”. He was trying to introduce himself to her. 
Now, however, she didn't care, all she could feel was fear and anger. 
Rollo came closer and said something in his savage language, but to her ears, it sounded like grunts. She withdrew again, saying “Go away, beast”, throwing one of the pillows at him. 
He chuckled a little, and he went away, leaveing her in the room afraid of what he would do next. 
She looked around the room, and she saw that it actually was a house. 
It was a small wooden cabin, and although its owner was nothing less than a beast everything was clean and organized and the only thing she could see that vaguely resembled a door was a curtain. 
When the heathen came back he held a small chest and a dress. 
He uncovered her and then he offered her his hand to help her to stand up, but Gisla scorned him and insulted him. 
She stood up by herself. 
Rollo looked at her amazed for a moment, then he made her understand that she should sit on the ground, and she shook her head in disgust. 
“I'm a princess, I would never sit on this dirty ground!”, even after her protests, she finally sat. He opened the chest, and took a hairbrush. 
He started to gently comb her hair, and she closed her eyes letting a tear fall, remembering how her maids in Frankia did the same things. 
That made her hate him even more. 
Why did he take her? 
She thought for a moment of escape, but where? She was in a foreign country, even if she did so she would die in a few weeks. 
Fortunately she could at least insult him and let out all her anger, and she could at least use one of the weapons she saw around the house to protect herself until her father came to rescue her. How surprised the court would be when they will heard about the fearless princess Gisla that protected herself from a beast of a Northman! 
Then she came back to the reality, and she could feel that Rollo was helping her to stand up again. 
She looked at him fearfully with wide eyes. He wiped the tear and accompanied her to the other room, and she saw something that seemed to be a bathroom; because she saw a bath full of hot water and a chair at one of the sides of it. 
He pointed to her dress, and then to the floor. She had to be naked in front of that beast?! 
She was opening her mouth to disagree, but he was already undressing her. 
She instantly thought that he would rape her, but he was carefully avoiding touching her, and when she was fully undressed she noticed how dirty her dress was, and how she didn't smell the best. 
Rollo pointed the bath and she angrily went and dove in the hot water, while he was adding at the water an orange liquid that smelled like some kind of flower. 
After that he sat on the chair and continued to comb and wet her hair. While he did so she looked around, attracted by some of the strange engravings on the wooden wall. 
When the bath ended, he stood up again and took the dress from the other room, and helped her put it on. 
It was a white and azure dress, made with a fabric unknown to her. 
She touched it, and then Rollo handed her a pair of shoes that she instantly put on. 
Now she looked exactly like those women she saw on the shore, the only thing that she lacked was their hairstyle. 
Then she saw the beast taking from a sack something she recognised at once, in his hand she saw twelve pair of little ribbons. The hair strings! 
Probably they found them on a Frankish house. 
She instantly took them and after combing once again, this time she did it herself, put them on the fronts locks, trying to imitate one of the hairstyles she often did when she was in her beloved Paris. 
At this point her hair was dry, and the sky was a dark shade of blue. 
Rollo didn't try to come close again, and he went to the fire. He then took the carcass of a pig and started to cut it and then cook it, while Gisla stole a knife from the small chest hiding it on her sleeve, being as far from him as possible. 
While he was cooking the meat he still looked at her with the same enchanted expression she saw on him that evening, and she felt her anger rise up again. 
He took a bowl and handed it to her, and she took it looking at him disdainfully. 
They ate in silence, a silence broken only by the howling of the wolves and the crackle of the fire. 
Then Rollo removed his shirt and laid down on the bed. 
Gisla couldn't believe what she was seeing. Would she have to sleep on the bed with that beast? Oh, that was unbearable. She would not allow such thing. 
She took one of the blankets she saw on a corner of the room and laid down on the floor. 
While she was trying to sleep in this uncomfortable position, Rollo came close to her and she took out her knife, pointing it to him. 
He was surprised at first, then he chuckled and took her cover, laying down on the floor. 
Gisla was startled; and was going to say something but he was already asleep. 
She went to the bed and laid down on it, covering herself with the blankets and falling asleep quickly listening to the sounds of the night.
  

Author Notes: 
Hey! 
I'm finally back with another chapter. 
I have some news for you all. 
School is officially over, and this means 
that I'm going to write more, 
and hopefully you'll have to wait 
less for a new chapter. 
The second new is that I'm going to publish 
a Rolisla one shot, so stay tuned! 
Thank you again @seersaw for the editing, 
you're really helping me a lot. 
I hope you'll like this chapter, and don't worry, 
the others won't be slow like the formers and this one.  
With love,  
Viv.


	4. IV. Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rollo develops his feelings for Gisla, and Gisla finds more Frankish things.

The morning light woke him.   
He had slept on the floor during the whole night, and though it wasn't comfortable, Rollo for the fist time slept in peace.  
He even dreamt, after many sleepless nights. His dreams were filled with Gisla and her beautiful hair, Gisla and her glorious smile.   
For the first time in many years, he was happy. Truly happy.   
The first time that he saw her, that constant heavy feeling that he had had for the past ten years faded, leaving an emptiness that felt like living.   
And she wasn't a dream. Oh, no, Gisla was really there with him.   
He had cooked for her, he had felt her breath as she succumbed to her dreams, just like when they were on the boat, just like a husband does for his wife.  
Rollo sat on the wooden floor, then he stood up and took a sip of water from a bowl he had on the table.   
He went to the bed, and Gisla was laying there, sleeping under the covers. He smiled, and stroked her hair gently, trying to not wake her.   
Then he caressed her cheeks, and he felt her warmth. It was a light touch, something small, yet it was enough. He just needed to feel her.   
After a few hours, Rollo went to the bathroom and prepared Gisla's bath, he had to hunt but he couldn't leave her alone.   
He was afraid of what would happen in his absence, and Siggy's death was still lingering in his mind like a whisper in the night. He dreaded to leave her.   
After choosing the clothes and the shoes for a morning in the woods, he woke Gisla gently, by stroking her hair.   
At first, she was so sleepy that her eyes remained closed for a few minutes, while he whispered her name and stroked her hair.   
When she was fully awake she rolled away from him, recognising his presence, and took the knife from under the pillow.   
Gisla was so close to the edge of the bed that she was almost falling to the floor, but Rollo's hand rushed to take hers and pull her out of danger.   
He let go of her hand, saying “Do you see? I saved you once more.”, then he chuckled and pointed the bathroom, making her understand that she needed to ready herself. Gisla stood up, and with the knife, she slowly went to the bathroom.   
Just like the day before, he helped her to bathe, he combed and braided her hair just like when he saw her on the wall and then helped her to dress.   
She was quiet, but she never let go of the knife. It was clear that she was still afraid and angry ~~~~and that she didn't like him.  
It was as if there was a wall between them and every time he tried to break through she built it again.   
Rollo looked at her once more, her beautiful eyes were trained on her dress. It was true, she didn't like him, but he did.   
Each time their eyes locked, he felt something. Something that he had never felt towards anyone.   
Gisla looked at him, and then he took a cloak and handed it to her, smiling. As always, she said something in her language, probably an insult, but he actually didn't care.   
He was too happy to have her with him to care about her insults, and as for her dislike... he had to work for her love, and he would win it. He took a fur and put it on his shoulders, then he took his axe, his bow and his arrows.   
Then he went out with her, in the middle of the forest. He now lived in his old cabin. His house before he sailed West. 

He didn't want to live with Gisla in Kattegat, Ragnar and his men were a danger, just like Lagertha and her shieldmaidens and though he really enjoyed the sweet company of Helga, her husband was always looking in on business that wasn’t his own.   
He wanted to avoid all of them, now that his thoughts were busy with his princess.   
No one would ever truly miss him, so it wasn't a problem when he had disappeared and no one had ever searched him except for Siggy.   
The last time was after Siggy's death, and no one but Bjorn, Helga and Aslaug searched him.   
From that moment on, the only ones he truly cared for were his nephews, Helga and Aslaug. He didn't care about the others, about Ragnar's selfishness, about Lagertha and Floki's blindness. After many years of pain, he learned to care only for the ones who loved him.   
Lost in his thoughts, Rollo was following his usual path, when a voice called his name. It was Gisla, and he was mesmerized by the way she pronounced his name.   
In his mind, it sounded like the name of a God, and he would have done anything to hear his name called by her again and again.   
But he noticed that she was pointing something in the middle of the forest, and when he looked in that direction he saw a big bear.   
While he could easily go and kill him, he would have had to leave Gisla, and he wasn't even sure if she liked that kind of meat.   
He was deciding what to do, and Gisla noticed that he wanted to go without her. She started to tremble and her eyes were full of tears and she took his hand in hers.   
Rollo felt her light touch on his hand, and in that moment he realised how beautiful but alarming her touch was.   
He looked at her and realised that she had misunderstood his behaviour. ~~~~He tried to comfort her and make her understand that he wasn't going to abandon her.  
He took her hand and changed paths, searching for something more familiar for a Frankish princess.   
Gisla, after that episode, stiffened more, regretting that moment of weakness, and when Rollo tried to touch her once more, she yelled at him and walked as far from him as she could. He understood and avoided annoying her further. Then he started to point to thing that he found on their path, teaching her a bit of his language.   
He loved her pronunciation, the way she pronounced the 'r' and when she struggled to say some words.   
Each time he laughed at her mistakes, she kicked him, and that amused him too.   
When they came back home, it was early evening, and he worked on the carcasses while Gisla reorganised the chests that he had outside.   
Each one full of Frankish things that could be useful. Then Rollo saw Gisla coming towards him and gave him a necklace with a big brown stone.   
He took it and was about to tell her something, but she was busy again with the chests. He was speechless, and though he didn't know what it meant, he was happy.  
Rollo wore it, smiling, and then went back to his work with the meat. It was almost twilight when they both finished, and they entered home tired but happy, especially Gisla because she had found a set of necklaces that she liked, while Rollo was happy to see her smiling for the first time.   
Yes, it was true, she was still angry and maybe she feared him still, but he was happy about all the first times he had in only one day.   
He understood that he had to work hard for her trust and love, but it was worth the work.   
They spent the night, just like the day before, eating in silence and then going to sleep one on the bed, the other on the floor.   
Gisla fell asleep quickly, she was exhausted. Rollo followed her a few minutes later soothed by her breath, still holding the necklace in his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter took time to write, but I have done so many researches for it. One of them is really relevant for this chapter; the scene of the necklace is not just a cute scene, but it's actually Gisla's way to communicate with Rollo.   
> The Frankish people used jewelleries not only as an accessory, but also for express the rank of the jewel's owner, or why it was gifted.   
> Each color had a meaning, and the rank was expressed by the size of the jewel, the brightness and the value.   
> Since I didn't find the Frankish meanings, I took liberties in the meaning of the color: brown, commonly, is the color of gratitude.


	5. V. Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gisla and Rollo finally come to terms, and something new starts.

_Her mother picked her up. She smiled, and kissed her cheeks, stroking her hair and touching her jewelry._

_  
_

__“Gisla! Did you miss me?”, she giggled “Yes mama, I missed you a lot”. Her mother smiled and questioned “How was your day?”   
“It's beautiful now that I'm with you mama, I missed you so much. Papa? Where is papa?”. Frederuna pointed to a spot, then delivered her.   
Gisla ran through the castle's garden, impatient to greet her father. Charles picked her up, laughing.   
“My child, you shouldn't run! You will ruin your dress.”, she stroked his hair and kissed his beard, giggling. Her mother reached them, taking the hem of her dress. “Frederuna, you're with child, you shouldn't be here, you should rest.” Charles said, while Gisla was playing with his coat.   
“It's just a walk, and you know that I have neglected my duties for a long time. My people, the people of Frankia, they need me.” she said, and Charles replied “you will become ill.”, shaking his head. “I will not get ill. And even if I catch the fever, I will recover.” “You can't be sure of that, you could die.”,   
he muttered and she replied “I don't care. I would kill myself for Paris, and you know that very well. I will not stop visiting my people when I'm most needed” Charles shook his head “I need you the most”.   
Gisla looked at her parents, then said “Don't argue, mama.”, and Frederuna giggled, stroking her hair with her pale hand. Her mother fell to the floor.  
Gisla woke up, breathing heavily. She was sweating, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.   
She started to pray, but she didn't know for whom she was praying for, if it was herself or her mother. Gisla started to cry, her sighs were loud and her heart was breaking. She realised that her destiny was just like her mother's and that her father would not come to rescue her, just like he didn't attend her mother when she fell ill.   
He said, some minutes before the siege, the same thing he said to her mother; “I need you the most”. Yet, it wasn't true. He was lying, just like he had done with her mother.   
If  had truly cared, he would have sent ships and he would have come here. But he didn't. She would have to stay here, perhaps forever, living with Rollo.   
She knew that he was trying to be kind, in his own beastly way, but she had hoped that at least one day she would come back to her beloved city, in her castle, embraced again by her mother's presence in each room. She missed her home, her city, her people.   
She hid her face in the blankets, and then she felt a hand stroking her hair. She knew that it was him, he was calling her name worried, but she couldn't feel anything but her pain and her anger. She was angry with her father. She was angry with herself and she was angry with Rollo.   
She stood up, trying to face him, and with tears on her face yelled “Why? Why did you have to do this?!”.   
Rollo tried to answer, and instinctively he came close to Gisla with the intention of speaking to her, but she pushed him away and threw a bowl that was full of water at his chest. After that moment of rage, she fell to the floor and cried. She knew that he would kill her now or beat her if she was lucky.   
She knew that now he had probably lost all the kindness he had for her and that the beast she saw on the wall would come back and attack her.   
And just when she had lost all hope, he returned to stroke her hair, first unsure, then with the sweetness he always had for her.   
She looked at him, and then cried on his shoulder, searching for his assuring embrace that made her feel like home.   
Suddenly, she realised that even that beast loved her more than her father. Rollo took her in his arms, and gently picked her up and laid her on the bed, trying to comfort her. She didn't understand what he was saying, but somehow she knew what he meant. Gisla felt lost. Again, he could have hurt her, but he didn't.   
He kissed her tears, something that her mother did when she was a child, and then he gave her time to recover.   
She was thankful for it and for everything he was doing, he understood her in his own way. She calmed herself, and pondered the situation.   
It wasn't Frankia, or her castle, but Rollo was trying to give her a decent way of living. He cooked for her, he helped her to bathe, and he didn't force himself on her.   
He even slept on the floor, letting her use his own bed. He was nothing like Ragnar or the others heathens, and he had stayed by her side when she thought that she was alone. In exchange, she wasn't doing much for him. She insulted him, and though some insults were well deserved, it was senseless to continue like this.   
In a few weeks, winter would come, and he gave her all his time while he could be outside doing something useful for the coming season.   
She would stay here forever, she knew it for sure, and if not forever she would stay there for a very long time.   
It was pointless to continue like this, waiting for a father that would not come and scorning the only one who was here for her. Rollo and she had only each other.   
She had to do something, she realised that had to stop acting like a child. If she had to live here, she would live in the Viking way.   
It was painful to think, that she, a Frankish princess, could be a Viking. But she had to. It would be hard, but she had to do something.   
Her mother would have done something, her mother would have been strong ~~,~~ and she wanted to be just like her.  
She went to Rollo, that was trying to clean her mess, and said to him “I want to learn your language”. Rollo looked at her with a confused look.   
Then she said the only thing she remembered from the day before: “Tré”. Rollo looked at her, and then understood.   
He took a drop of water from the floor, and said “Vatn”. She repeated it, and they spent almost all the morning like this. With him saying things and her repeating them.   
She now even knew how to greet people or how to have a brief speech. Rollo struggled a little, especially when he had to explain concepts, but for the rest she now knew something useful. Her good memory, due to her previous studies of the Bible, helped her and she learned quickly.   
“How... axe?” she asked, not sure if she was understandable. “What?” he didn't understand, so she took his axe and pointed the meat he had on the table.   
He shook his head, again, he didn't understand. She shook the axe on the air, and roared, as if she was fighting or hunting.   
He understood ~~~~and exclaimed “You want to fight!”, and she nodded. He shook his head, worried “It's dangerous, I don't want you to hurt yourself.” and she shook her head in response “You help me. I don't hurt.” “Why?”.  
She looked at him, as if she was trying to find in his eyes the right words, and then she whispered “I help you... house... hunt... fight... I help. Winter come, and we...” he interrupted her “You don't have... I took you, I care for you. You shouldn't worry.” and she understood what he meant.   
“Now this is home, you live here, I live I here. I care.” she sat beside him, watching the wooden floor just like he was doing.   
Then he looked at her “We just need wood, and... then... you must have new dresses.” she nodded, looking at her gown. “You had wife?” her fingers were playing with the hem of the dress, and he shook his head again “No, I never had a wife. I had a woman that lived with me, but she died.” she stirred on the floor “Just like me.” he stroked her hair and then whispered, “No, it was different”.   
From the window a cold wind entered the house, making them shiver “Cold... You sleep on floor?” asked Gisla, and Rollo nodded looking at her “If you wish for me to sleep on the floor I'll sleep on the floor”. She looked at him, and then remembered her mother's illness. “No, you sleep in bed. I sleep on floor.” he drew back from her hair and looked at her “No, you will not sleep on the floor. I will not allow it.” she took his cold hand, raising it to her cheek.   
“You cold. Bed yours...” he caressed her, and then he said “Bed ours. You live here, I live here. Remember?” and she nodded. “You say we... sleep in bed? Two?” and he replied “Yes, the two of us”. For a moment she felt the urge to disagree, it was a sin to sleep with a man that was not her husband, but then she felt his cold touch again and she kept quiet.   
“Rollo, do you have family?” he nodded “Yes, I have you” she shook her head blushing “No... ehm... brother?” he looked at her, and then replied “Ragnar Lothbrok is my brother. But we don't always get along, so you don't have to worry about him”.   
She looked at him, trying to spot similarities between Rollo and the beast that in the boat that had dragged her by her hair, but she didn't find anything, not even a hint of his visage. “You different from him.” she whispered, and then she stood up. Rollo knew that the magic moment ended, but he was happy.   
They would have a civil relationship, from now, and this was a start. He looked at her, still lying on the floor, still feeling her warmth on his fingertips.   
“Rollo... I want fight.” she insisted, her voice firm. He started to feel uncomfortable thinking of her getting hurt, but then he remembered the wall, where Gisla was unafraid of anything, even of him. He remembered the fire in her eyes, her golden dress, her braided hair and her stunning light.   
Rollo realised that it was he, who was afraid, who still feared something, and not Gisla.   
She didn't fear anything, she could even stand against Ragnar or himself, fighting against whoever crossed her path.   
She was as strong as Hel, and the look in her eyes proved it, while she was asking him to teach her to fight.   
He was the one who was afraid, and the only thing he feared was losing her, and when he feared losing someone he became overprotective and controlling.   
But that had to change, she needed to be free, and he needed to see her free. He nodded, bewitched by her strength ~~~~.  
“Now it's evening, today we'll rest, but I swear to the Gods that tomorrow I will teach you to fight.” he smiled at her, and at first she looked at him disapprovingly, but then she nodded and smiled back. “Rollo, God is one!” she whispered.   
Gisla then ~~~~took a piece of meat and started cutting it, just to see what it felt like and to try to do something on her own.   
At first it was strange, she had never done something like this and she was just copying something she had seen him do, but then she got used to it and everything went smoothly.   
She wanted to be independent just like when she was in Frankia, when her father left everything in her hands, and the first thing she needed to achieve was doing things by herself, without the help of servants or maidens. While she was working on the meat, Rollo went out and gathered some wood to warm the house and to cook.   
He was used to the wintry coldness of Kattegat, but he knew that Gisla wasn't.   
He lit a fire, and then asked her “Gisla, do you have family in Frankia?” “Yes, only father. I had a brother, but he died when he was very little” she replied, her voice was barely audible and he felt sorry again.   
“I'm sorry I took you away from your father. I didn't want to harm you. I was just trying to protect you. Here nothing and no one is like you, and I understand if you hate this place, I hate it too.” he apologized, not really knowing what he was trying to say or where he would end his speech, but he just wanted to show that he wasn't proud of his actions and that he didn't want to harm her, but then her voice surprised him “I forgive you, Rollo. I know you didn't want to cause harm, you could hurt me and you didn't. In Frankia things weren't all...– she struggled to find a word– good, as you think. You have not done something good, don't ever do something like this in future, but It's not your fault only. We stay together for a long time, so I can't always hate you. I forgive you”.   
He didn't know what she meant with “We stay together for a long time”, but he was glad that she had forgiven him.   
He could feel that she didn't fully trust him, she always kept her distance and for the rest of the night she didn't speak much, but it was understandable.   
He already knew that he had to give her time, that love and trust wasn't something easy and that he had to wait.   
He had waited a long time to meet her, he could wait a little more.   
They ate, this time speaking about what to do for the winter, and then the conversation dropped and everything was silent again.  
Rollo went to the bed, and looked at her as if he was asking for permission. “Rollo, the two of us” she repeated his words, took the knife and put it under her pillow. “And him”, Gisla joked and then she laid on the bed and covered herself with the blankets. Rollo followed Gisla, lying beside her.   
At first he could not keep his eyes off her, but then he could feel that he was too tired and that he would quickly fall asleep, so he took her hand gently, giving her time to draw it back, and when he saw that she didn't he closed his eyes.   
Gisla guarded his dreams for a few minutes, wondering if Rollo was laying in Morpheus' arms or if he worshipped another kind of deities, and after that thought closed her eyes, following him to wherever he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm here again with this new chapter.   
> I've worked so hard on it, and I really hope you will enjoy it.  
> First of all, I want to thank seersaw (DaizyDoe here on Ao3) for  
> helping me with the edits, I really owe her a lot and she's really amazing.  
> Now I come with the notes of the chapter, just to give you some explanations.  
> The first scene, the one with Frederuna, is partially inspirated to a scene  
> in The Tudors in which Anne Boleyn picks up Elizabeth, and the dialogue is  
> a little changed.  
> For the scenes in which Gisla told Rollo that she wanted to learn his language,  
> the words are actual Old Norse words and they mean respectively three and  
> water.  
> Hel is the Norse goddess of the dead, and I recommend to keep this  
> similarity in mind, because it will be useful in the next chapters.  
> The last scene, finally, refers to Morpheus, a Greek God,   
> also called the "Lord of Sleeping". I think that Gisla wasn't familiar with  
> paganism, and that the only thing she could rely on was Greek Mythology,  
> since it was pretty important. She couldn't possibly know of   
> Norse Gods. The way of saying "Sleeping on Morpheus' arms" is Italian,  
> but I used it literally to enphasize the reference.   
> Thank you all for coming at this point,   
> hope you will enjoy!


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